Party pooper

Having The Goddess has meant practically striking a line through all social engagements for a very long time.

Too tired, colic, nothing to wear (besides the fact nothing fits), and just the sheer logistics, has scuppered any chance of a night out for the foreseeable future.

Or at least it feels that way.

I wouldn't be so worried but typically 2010 is turning out to be THE year for all those around me.

I'm missing big birthday parties, where people are celebrating ages which end in 0.

Weddings that span from London to Connecticut to Italy.

An evening over at a friend's house seems like an impossibility.

In short it's very frustrating. It wasn't that long ago that I was out on the tiles, partying 'til dawn.

Now even the cat doesn't even want to hang out with me.

Still, perhaps I shouldn't complain at it's nice to be invited.

Don't worry friends, I'll be back on the scene roughly 2013.

Round and around we go

You've got to be honest.

Sometimes, you get to the weekend and you're all out of puff.

Life can be one long roundabout and now again you just want to jump off.

Everybody likes to give you their tuppence worth about the joys of parenting:

"Enjoy these years, they go so quickly."

"It's tough now, but it's just a phase."

"You'll look back and wonder where time went."

What nobody says is how boring it can be. Come on, be truthful. It can be just a wee bit, um, dull.

The same faces and places, the 'What shall we have for tea?', the 'Will I ever stop feeling tired?', the routine schmoutine.

I sometimes go into autopilot forgetting to revel in the moment, and remember that this is their childhood we're living.

The act of getting up, doing the school run, doing the shopping, picking the kids up, having tea, doing bath and bedtime, can be more enduring than enjoying.

Now again, my mind wanders into fast forward mode, when I assume things will be 'exciting' but the reality is that you have to make it happen.

So right now imagination is the key, I'm trying to make life a little bit more interesting for all involved.

It's less Cbeebies (eek) and more papier mache, more baking (if all else fails make a cake) and less, well less of the mundane.

Here's to more fun times ahead.

For them and for me.

The one where I do as I do, not as I say.

I've only been blogging for a few weeks, but I jumped at the chance to get involved in Guest Post Day, a gem of an idea from Erica, the woman behind Little Mummy.

So today, you'll be reading a new shiny post from Laura from Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy?

She's a veteran blogger, but I think you'll agree that we can all relate to the joy that is demanding children.

If you want to find out what I wrote (or rather made) for Laura, head over to her site for some stitching without the bitching.

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When I pick the children up it's always the same.

They come out of school, across the playground, and pile anything they are carrying onto me so that they can go on the school's adventure playground before going back to the car.


I am Sherpa-Woman; ladened with a packed lunch bag, a cardigan, a bag of wellies, a book bag and a cereal box model or two, gloves and scarves.


Yesterday was different though, I didn't even get a "Hello Mummy, please can you hold this?".


On the way to the car the 4 year old whined that he was tired and couldn't possibly walk the last 5 metres.

The 5 year old complained that I was walking too fast. In less than 3 minutes my heart rate went up.


As we got in the car all I heard was ... open the car, where is my bag?, pass me my juice, I'm sitting in that seat, don't touch my packed lunch bag, that's my book.


As I listened my blood boiled.


I turned round and using my best Supernanny firm voice with a hint of 'wild thunder eye' told them that I was going to speak, WITHOUT INTERRUPTION.


I told them that they had to speak to each other and me with more respect. I told them that I'm sure they didn't speak to their teacher or childminder like that.


I turned back, took a deep breath and started the car. I looked in the mirror and could see that the 5 year old was thinking.


5 year old - Mummy, at school I am very polite. I always say please and thank you, so when I see you after school I don't have any manners left.


The 3 year old whose grommets have fallen out leaving him partially deaf simply nodded in agreement.


Me - I want a change in behaviour tomorrow after school tomorrow, OK?


5 year old - Mummy, but you didn't say please.


I think I need Supernanny to give me a good talking to.

Read all about it

To celebrate World Book Day Minxy decided to dress up as Cinderella.

No surprise there as the world she inhabits is one full of princesses, fairies, weddings and anything that where everyone lives happily ever after.

And why not? If you can't have a rosy view of the world when you're five, when can you?

I love reading books. Don't do enough of it, but still love it. I remember reading in my bedroom, long after 'lights out' and squinting in the dim light as my mind was led on an adventure.

Currently, my own reading ranges wildy from the practical (How To Teach Your Child To Read In 100 Easy Lessons
) to the inspirational (The Audacity of Hope), to the downright random (Lillian Too's Little Book of Feng Shui).

Pah! I couldn't even tell you who is top of the bestsellers list, but I'm sure it's none of the above.

Sadly, reading leisurely for pleasure means harking back to the days B.C (Before Children).

Although World Book Day might be a bit gimmicky (wouldn't it be great if adults dressed up too?), it reminds us all how important it is to escape from the daily grind and disappear into a good book.

What will you be reading today?

Cuckoo la la

Found the marbles.

Honestly, I thought I had lost them.

Then I realised they were on the book shelf all along. Phew!

Seriously though, my brain has never quite been the same since the chiddlers came along and I now do the oddest things.

For example:

I actually laugh at Cbeebies show Gigglebiz.

Ditto Peppa Pig.

I've found myself admiring the interiors in TV show Grandpa In My Pocket.

My memory just isn't the same.

My memory just isn't the same, or have I said that already?

Going to Ikea is almost a family day out.

I've started to unashamedly watch The Wright Stuff on Five.

I'm one of the few people who actually likes Angelina Jolie.

What I want to know is will I ever be the same again? Can my tastes ever revert back to normal?

What kind of stuff do you do that you didn't do before?

Is there hope?

Head, shoulders, knees and toes

Everybody talks about the pain of childbirth, but nobody tells you about the aches and pains you endure afterwards.

My neck is stiff.

My back has more knots than Minxy's hair.

My shoulders are up to my ears.

It's not a good look.

The Goddess is only a wee thing (not sure exact amount because I'm done with the weekly weigh-in palava), but when she's lounging on one shoulder, whilst I wipe another child's bum and answer the phone, my spine is paying for it big time.

I think it actually resembles the letter 'Q'.

Which is why I'm going to enlist the help of my sister to put me on the straight and narrow.

She's recently qualified as an osteopath and I could with her fingers working her magic.

There's always scepticism surrounding osteopathy, but from my experience, it's definitely worked for me.

And to be honest having somebody manipulate my muscles is an offer I just can't turn down.

Men at work

Three words.

Just three words can send your heart racing and your head spinning.

No not those ones.

I meant 'working late tonight.'

When I hear those words my shoulders sink and I generally do a big sigh.

Then I dust myself down and throw myself headlong into the tea, bath, bed routine and hope that I come out the other side in one piece.

Obviously, I have the utmost respect for single parents who have no choice but to get on with it night after night.

But sometimes it's nice to have a helping hand with the homework ('just one more spelling darling'), the meal time ('just one more mouthful please'), the bath ('just five more minutes and then out'), and bedtime ('just one more page').

With The Boy working late on a regular basis, getting three to bed is quite a challenge, but I'm trying my best to nail it.

Wish me luck.